


Awry

by orphan_account



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-07-07
Updated: 2010-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-09 10:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sango had the perfect life... until she met the wandering monk Miroku, and her perfect life went awry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: _Inuyasha _belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.

Miroku sighed and stared listlessly at the sight before him. It should have been lovely, breathtaking, even, and yet it felt cold. With winter fading behind him, new villages and the promise of new, eager female flesh should have been both exciting and enticing. And yet…

A woman's high-pitched giggle caught his attention, but not even the sight of a half-bared breast could keep it. He reached for his shakujo, set aside out of habit, and gripped the metal rod so tightly that it sent a jolt of pain through his hand. In some ways, it pleased him to feel the strength in that hand, whole these past few years, and mysteriously healed of its curse.

"Is something the matter, Lord Monk?" the dancing woman asked. There was concern in her voice, but he was focused on her appearance. A fine, many layered kimono, glistening hair styled just so, and immaculate paint on her face. She looked familiar. Had he met her before, perhaps? No, he did not think he had been to this village recently enough to remember.

Miroku blinked, annoyed. So many women that they were all starting to blur together in his memory. And they were, for the most part, so very easy. A word or two, and they would do anything he asked. It was boring and unfulfilling. Dull, even. Not exactly the post-curse life he had hoped for.

"I sense a dark presence. I must go."

It was not truly a dark presence, but a demonic presence nonetheless. He had a feeling he knew who it was, and just in time to save him from his discontent. The tanuki…

He could hear the teahouse women murmuring in response to his sudden departure. An odd sensation struck him: he did not particularly care if he returned to the teahouse or not.

Once outside and a safe distance away, he spoke. "Hachi." When, after much rustling of bushes and stuttering hesitation, the raccoon-dog finally appeared, he added, "My friend, what brings you here?"

"I have a challenge for you," Hachi said, brushing himself off. His eyes gleamed with mischief, reminding Miroku of why he had always liked this tanuki so much.

"What sort of challenge did you have in mind?"

"I've heard of a unique challenge for one with your particular, ahem, skills." From the sudden, forced propriety in the tanuki's voice, Miroku knew exactly which set of skills he meant. His longtime friend and companion was not unaware of his reputation with women. Far from it, in fact.

"There's a woman of surpassing beauty, in an unhappy marriage to a small-time lord." Seeing Miroku's unimpressed look, he quickly added, "She's a feisty one. Rumor has it she's a warrior."

"A warrior…"

"I hear there's good money in it for anyone who can seduce this lady," Hachi continued.

Miroku mulled this over for a moment. "Go on."

"My source says that there is a great reward in store for one who can accomplish this in a single season, before the first snow." The tanuki shrugged. "The bastard wouldn't say more unless I was planning to attempt it myself."

Miroku frowned. It was barely spring. Winter was a long way off. "So the real catch is not the time limit, but that the game comes at the cost of this woman's honor."

Not that a little thing like honor had ever stopped him before.

"Well, yes, I suppose so," the tanuki said, his voice suddenly betraying his nervousness. It sounded almost as if he had expected Miroku to turn him down.

"And I suppose you're honor-bound not to reveal the name of this source of yours." He leaned closer and made his voice sound more dangerous, just to set the tanuki on edge.

"Y-yes, lord Miroku," Hachi stammered. "I am not to give a name until you have completed the task… Only then will you receive the reward."

Miroku stood suddenly; Hachi leapt backward with a yelp.

"If I play, it will be by my rules," the monk observed calmly. If Hachi was nervous about issuing this challenge, there had to be a reason for it. Miroku wondered who had put him up to it… At the very least he could guess who stood to gain from the defamation of this woman. One of the lord's more ambitious underlings, perhaps. It did not much matter, but it piqued his curiosity, and almost as much as the woman herself.

What would it be like to face off against a woman he could consider his equal? A woman that did not merely obey, but lived by her own honor, her own sword and strength… It was a tempting proposition.

"Will you do it?"

"We'll see. Show me the way and I'll think about it."

-x-

Hachi provided detailed directions to the village where this woman was reputed to live, and Miroku had followed dutifully for days, but there was no sign of the village. He had parted ways with the tanuki shortly after the discussion that had led to this journey in the first place, and now Miroku was beginning to wonder if he was just being too impatient or if he had wrongly remembered the directions.

Regardless, with foul weather brewing on the horizon, he was hoping to find shelter soon.

A village appeared in the distance, like a beacon. It did not matter to him whether it was the right one or not. Best to find a teahouse and weather the storm in as pleasant a way as possible.

A short while later, as the first bitterly cold rain began to fall, he determined that there were in fact no teahouses, or even brothels, in this particular village. Upon closer inspection, it was really more of a town than a village, and was crowned by a modest castle. It might even have been the village he had been searching for. The whole place was a little rough and worn around the edges, but it was pleasant enough. Except, of course, for the decided lack of feminine company with which to entertain himself.

Unable to tolerate the rain any longer, he took shelter at the village's inn. Several village men clustered on the porch, discussing the weather, as well as the current political situation. All were old, some scarred and marked from years of hard work in the fields. They were most likely the village's elder peasants, and therefore a good source of information.

Miroku took up an unobtrusive position nearby, and quietly listened to their conversation as the storm rumbled through. One of them bemoaned the loss of the town's whores and teahouses. He was hurriedly shushed when he began to loudly blame his lord's wife for the lack. Another man pointed out that one look at the lady in all her glory would more than make up for any perceived lack.

An awkward silence ensued, and was gradually replaced by discussion of other, safer topics.

Miroku pretended to be deep in meditation. It was amazing, the things people were willing to say around him when they thought he was not paying attention. The rumors he heard at the inn served to confirm that he was in the right place, after all.

The young lord and his men, those villagers that could fight, were away, and had been for some time now. His wife, though lovely, was a hellion of a woman, and rumor had it that she had been furious at being left behind. The men said it had taken days to remind her of her place. They laughed heartily at that, but Miroku was intrigued. Seducing such a woman might actually be a welcome challenge. And if the village men were away, even better.

It would certainly alleviate his boredom, for a few days, anyway.

The storm gave him time to formulate a plan, and he waited patiently at the inn until well after it had passed and the villagers had dispersed. Only then did he set out, making his way calmly and sedately, though with an obvious sense of purpose, toward the small castle that looked so massive in comparison to the village that surrounded it.

A few servants milled about outside, but he did not see any guards. Perhaps it was true that the lord had gone, and taken every able-bodied man of warrior class with him. Miroku had to question the wisdom of leaving one's noble wife alone and unguarded in a time of war, but chalked it up to the mysteries of the noble class. He remembered what Hachi had said, that the woman was a warrior, and wondered if her prowess was such that she was capable of keeping herself and her staff safe without assistance. He smiled, slightly. Best not to question such things too deeply, as the situation worked out all the better for him the way things were.

He observed for a moment longer, feeling his anticipation grow with each passing heartbeat. Even if nothing came of this, even if the rumors were all untrue, this was bound to be an interesting encounter.

He had bedded ladies and peasants before, even princesses that turned out to be demons, but never a warrior.

As none of the servants had yet approached him, he cleared his throat and announced, "Please take me to the lord of this castle. I must speak with him regarding an urgent matter. I sense a very dark aura about this place, and it must be dealt with immediately."

The servants glanced at one another slyly, but they admitted him with a young woman as his guide. Their response to his proclamation seemed a bit odd, but he shrugged the feeling off. Perhaps they had recently been visited by another traveling monk, or simply had not noticed a great many things going wrong lately.

As he followed the young woman through a short maze of hallways, he took the time to observe his surroundings. The castle's appointments were well-made and well-kept, but not ostentatious. Everything appeared to be in running order. Even the servants were fine to look at.

He could not help himself, and rubbed his hand along his guide's bottom in a practiced caress, earning himself an indignant slap in the process. She was feisty. He wondered if she was a match for the lady of the castle.

She fended his hand away again as they stopped outside one of the many shoji doors. She bid him wait quietly and slipped inside. He could barely make out a faint, murmured conversation within, but decided not to eavesdrop. The girl returned a few moments later and slid the door open enough that he could enter. "The lord Takeda is away, but my lady Sango will see you in his stead," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He nodded his thanks and, wishing he had asked the girl's name, entered the room. It was not as he had expected; it was an audience room, yes, but much smaller than he had thought to see. Her own private audience chamber, maybe, if her husband was as inclined to spoil her as the village men had thought.

The lady, Sango, dismissed the servant with a wave of her hand. The girl did not leave the room immediately, but moved to kneel behind the lady. There were no other attendants present.

"Sit." He obeyed the command without question, sitting down in front of the lady but close enough that he could touch her if he chose to. When he was settled, he looked at her expectantly. She was as striking as the rumors had said. If he had harbored any lingering hesitance to take on Hachi's challenge, it vanished at the sight of her.

"Tell me why, Lord Monk, you are lying to my servants about the presence of a supposed dark aura under our roof." The lady's eyes were large and luminous, even in the dim light, but were at the same time cold and suspicious.

"I would not lie about such an important matter," he protested. He had left himself open for further suspicion and accusations, but would deal with those problems as they arose. Her skepticism had taken him by surprise, but not for long. He was accustomed to dealing with recalcitrant innkeepers and noblemen.

For her part, Lady Sango looked thoughtful. For a moment he almost thought he saw amusement in those eyes. "Show me, then."

That he had not expected, given her initial response, but it was easy enough to come up with something to show as proof of a demon's presence. He had plenty of practice at duping lords and ladies. "Of course, my lady," he said, bowing deeply. "If you will be kind enough to follow me, I shall lead you to the source of the problem… though I cannot guarantee that it will be safe…"

"I am not worried," the lady replied, rising from her seat with an easy, effortless grace that left him momentarily spellbound. Her lips twitched in an almost-smirk when she caught him staring at her. "Lead the way, Lord Monk."

He stumbled hurriedly to his feet, bowing again before heading back into the hallway. Lady Sango followed sedately behind, the servant girl behind her. He got the distinct impression that this woman was toying with him.

He could feel her gaze on his back as he led the way down the hall, and found her scrutiny unnerving. It was almost intense enough to make him falter.

A niche set into the wall up ahead caught his eye; it was empty, and seemed a likely enough place for a dark aura to originate. And there were plenty of support beams nearby where he could place sealing fuda in order to remove the "demon."

"This is the place from which the dark aura flows," he announced, coming to a stop just before it.

"Hmm," said Lady Sango, a hint of appreciation in her voice.

"I can banish it, if it pleases you," Miroku told her cheerfully. "And for you, I will charge no fee."

"Is that so?" She stepped forward until she was standing next to him. She was so close that it was all he could do to keep his hand from sneaking over to caress her rear. The threat of potentially dire consequences for such misbehavior was enough to keep him in line… for now.

"It is."

"Tell me… why has this happened here? What spirit have we angered? Or is it truly a demon that haunts this castle?"

"I cannot be sure until I have begun the exorcism ritual…"

"That is because you are lying," she stated, bluntly enough that he nearly flinched.

"I swear it is no lie," he said, recovering with easily faked sincerity. "I –"

"It is no lie… or you are trying to swindle me?" she pressed. He did not answer, merely allowed a suitably taken aback expression to cross his face. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Lord Monk," she continued, with careful emphasis on his formal title, as if she were being supremely polite instead of cutting neatly to the core of his lies. "Are you aware that before my marriage to Lord Takeda I was a demon slayer?"

"A demon slayer?" Well, shit. Nobody had said anything about that. So much for his brilliant plan.

She nodded. "Do you think it is likely that a demon slayer would allow a demon with evil intent to inhabit her home?"

"No, my Lady."

"Good answer. I suggest that you leave, and do not return to this place."

His keen sense of self-preservation dictated that Miroku obey the order, though he noted that this time he was given no guide. He could feel Sango's steely gaze on his back as he walked, even as he had already, and quite inappropriately, dropped the respectful and formal "lady" from her name. She was… quite a woman. Everything he had expected, and more.

He had to admit, he was probably lucky to have escaped with no more punishment than being scolded and urged to leave, but by the time he made it outside he was grinning.

He had no intention of obeying her command to stay away. Quite the opposite, in fact. The coming season was definitely going to be fun…


	2. Chapter 2

Miroku was sitting at the inn, pretending to meditate in the hours after dinner had been served and before it was time to sleep, when he felt the slight but unmistakable brush of a nearby demonic aura. Having a feeling he knew exactly who it belonged to, his rose from his position by the hearth and strode purposefully outside. No one seemed to notice his sudden departure, and if they did, they knew better than to question it.

He followed the feel of the aura down a quiet path away from the inn; he was a short distance out of town when he came upon the source, and it was as he had suspected.

"What are you doing here, Hachi?" He asked the question pleasantly enough, but there was steel underlying his voice. He didn't care if Hachi was intimidated. So far as he was concerned, that damnable tanuki deserved everything he got.

"Greetings, Lord Miroku," Hachi said, almost managing not to stutter. "I came to see if you had found the village, and if you had any luck with the lady -"

"I'm here. And no," Miroku interrupted, his tone dry.

"No luck?" Hachi seemed distressed. "But -"

"You didn't tell me she was a demon slayer," Miroku pointed out. "Which put a bit of a damper on my original plan."

"I didn't know!" Hachi protested. In spite of the fact that the tanuki was very nearly cowering in front of him, Miroku was tempted to deliver a swift and well-deserved kick in the rear.

"Is there anything else you've been keeping from me?"

Hachi trembled, his ears pressed flat against his head. "N-no, Lord Miroku! I swear I've told you everything I know!"

"Who asked you to do this?" Miroku pressed, certain that if he kept pushing, the tanuki would give something up. He was reasonably sure that whoever had put Hachi up to this was not doing it simply for amusement. Hachi had something at stake here, or he would not look nearly so panicked. Nervous, yes. But frightened? This was unusual.

"I don't know! He never gave me a name!"

Miroku frowned, his anger slipping away into frustration and even a bit of concern, though he did his best to hide it. "You had better not be lying, or I'll purify you next time."

If Hachi had any doubts about his friend's ability to carry out that threat, he did not put voice to them. He stayed in his place on the ground while Miroku stalked back toward the village. Finally, he managed a quiet, "Will you still try, Lord Miroku?"

The monk did not answer.

-x-

Sango strode furiously down the castle hall and burst into the courtyard, Kirara following close on her heels. The servants knew not to bother her when she was in a mood, but that did not make the remaining retainers any less frustrating. She had risen with the dawn, as always, and had asked for word of her husband, as always, and had been treated to a condescending response, as always.

And so it was annoyance that sent her into the courtyard, dressed in the full battle regalia of her people, for sword practice. Propriety be damned, she was going to do something for once, instead of merely sitting on a cushion and watching the world go by without her, even if it was only a small something, and comforting, like the training practices she had performed ever since she was a little girl.

If there was one thing the court folk knew to avoid, it was Sango with a sword in her hand, never mind that it had been months since she had last used the thing. With this sword, she had proven her worth even well before she had become Kuranosuke's wife.

She may have proven her worth, she reflected dourly, but that did not stop the court folk from stifling her. She was required to act the part of complacent noblewoman, to dress in fancy clothes, and to be completely reliant upon her husband. Leaving the castle, for all that he left her ostensibly in charge of it, was out of the question unless her husband was present to grant permission and send an escort.

She grimaced. As if she needed the protection. Unfortunately, her husband earnestly and truly believed that she did.

Kuranosuke did not advertise her abilities as a demon slayer, and he did not permit her (perhaps wisely so, considering how dangerous her chosen profession could be) to go on extended hunting trips, though he had occasionally allowed her to help out at nearby villages. He thought of her as a treasure, something to be prized and cherished, not put at risk. He told her of this often, behind closed doors, when he would wax eloquent... or as eloquent as he could get, with awkward poetry and declarations of love and devotion. Secretly, she might have thought it more amusing than exciting, but the emotion behind it was sincere, and she could not fault him for that.

She knew it was only Kuranosuke's kindness and devotion that kept her here, after all. When she had showed up at his door, delirious and wounded, with only patchy memories of what had happened to her, he had taken her in without question and had seen to her care and recovery. When she had discovered that her village had been destroyed and its occupants killed, he had made her first a fixture of his household and later his wife. If he had not taken her in, she was certain she would have died, or worse. If not for him, she would have left long ago and let the court folk have their way.

And so, for him, she did her best to keep her calm. He trusted her implicitly, moreso than any of his retainers - and for good reason. That lot consisted of nothing but schemers, back-stabbers, and money hungry mooches. It was why he left her in charge of the castle while he was away, and why the court folk all hated her. It was why she hated them, as well. Being in charge meant she had to put up with them more than usual, which was always sure to push her patience to its limits.

Kuranosuke had been away for a week now, and she found she no longer wanted to put up with her responsibilities at all. But it was not that easy. As tempting as the idea was, she could not just walk away because she was angry. There was duty to consider, and honor. And not just her own, but her husband's as well.

Fleetingly, she yearned to bring her hiraikotsu down from its place on the wall of her chamber and use it to show those fat, pompous men what she could really do, but she dismissed the thought almost immediately. She was too long out of practice and would be as likely to hurt herself as show them what was what. For now, it would have to be the sword, though she vowed to work back to the point where she could at least practice with her favorite weapon again.

Her mind finally settled, she stood alone in the courtyard and took several deep breaths. She was out of practice and would have to start slowly, but her body already itched to resume the familiar exercises, to feel the weight of her sword in her hand.

She moved, first without a weapon so that her muscles could grow warm, and then with the wakizashi that had been part of her arsenal as a demon slayer. It was refreshing, pleasant. She closed her eyes, imagining that she was back home, still training under her father's supervision, honing her craft. She remembered all of it, as if she had done this last only yesterday.

She grew warmer, and pushed herself harder. Stress and tension flowed out of her with each carefully controlled movement of the blade. She swung the sword again and again and again, twisting, parrying, and thrusting with enough force to make her grunt from the effort. It felt good to exercise her muscles, to release the anger pent up inside. That it kept the court folk at bay was simply an added bonus.

By the time she noticed she was being watched, she was drenched in sweat and fully out of breath. She had been so lost in her exercises that she had become unaware of her surroundings - a dangerous mistake, and one that showed just how out of practice she had become, no matter how well she remembered the basics. Anger flared anew in the face of exhaustion when she realized just who it was.

Him. The monk. The scoundrel who had tried to swindle her just last night was sitting under one of the nearby trees, watching her.

"I told you not to return," she managed to say, through clenched teeth and without breathing too heavily. She sheathed her sword and crossed her arms over her chest, and wondered vaguely why he had been allowed entrance to the castle again. Perhaps he had snuck in unnoticed, in which case she made a mental note to have yet another talk with the watchmen.

"Not quite," said the monk, his voice quite cheery. He rose from his place at the base of the tree and meandered in her direction as he spoke. "You suggested that I leave and not return. I merely chose not to heed your advice."

Sango groaned. "I have no use for a fraud like you."

He looked affronted. "You think I'm a fraud?"

"You lied to me just yesterday," she pointed out, "about a supposed demonic presence in my home -"

"Then what do you call that?" he asked innocently, gesturing toward Kirara.

She wondered if he could actually sense Kirara's youki, or if he was just guessing because the cat had two tails. "That," she said stiffly, glowering at him, "is Kirara."

"That is what I felt." He shrugged. "A simple misunderstanding."

Sango eyed him suspiciously and did not believe a word he was saying.

Ever the keen observer when his credibility was on the line, he noted, "You don't believe me."

"Why would I? You're lying to me right now." She sighed. The man was quite obviously a charlatan, though he did not seem the least bit bothered by having been caught. Why wouldn't he just admit it and be on his way?

"My lady, now you are just being unkind -"

"Enough," she interrupted, her voice sounding weary and impatient even to her own ears. "What is it that you're after? Money? Valuables? You won't get any of that here -"

"You," he said quietly.

Something inside her snapped at the sheer impudence of his answer. She felt like a bowstring drawn too tight... and lashed out. It was instinct. Violence. It happened so quickly that she did not realize what had happened until he staggered backward, off-balance, finally toppling over to land on his back with a heavy, satisfying thud. Still bristling with anger, Sango barely noticed the ache the impact had left in her hand. Insolent jerk!

She turned on her heel and stormed away, resolutely refusing to look back. But when the monk made no remark, remorse began to slip in. She hadn't meant to hurt him, not really. He just needed to learn when to shut up.

So when she found a likely looking servant girl, she muttered, "Go check on that monk and make sure I haven't killed him." That was a mess she would like to avoid. She should not have lashed out like that; this could be just the ammunition her enemies needed to convince Kuranosuke to get rid of her. With a weary sigh, she added, "And see to it that he doesn't come back this time."

-x-

Miroku was grinning like a fool. He lay flat on his back, where he'd fallen when Sango finally lost her temper and hit him, watching the sky spin dizzily above him and feeling better than he had in years.

There was a throbbing, painful spot in the shape of Sango's fist where it had connected with his face; he'd have a spectacular bruise there before long. And he didn't care. His mind was elsewhere. Almost giddily elsewhere.

He had never met a woman with such fire before. He had never before been so violently rebuked. And it was... intriguing. Some part of him, deep inside, had thrilled to watch her tight grip on self-control slip, even a little. All it had taken was one word... a silly, almost flippant word, but one he did not think she would soon forget.

Already he was looking forward to their next encounter - and there would be another encounter, he'd make sure of that - for another chance to push her, to draw that passionate anger out of her all over again.

"Houshi-sama?" A soft voice intruded on his thoughts, and he turned to see one of the servant girls peering down at him. Concern was evident on her face, which was young and pretty. Her head tilted slightly to one side. "Are you all right?"

He laughed. "I'll be fine, but you have my sincere gratitude for your concern."

She helped him up, and steadied him with surprising strength when he was wobbly on his feet. Damn, that woman could pack a punch...

"You're sure you're fine?" the young woman asked, her expression skeptical.

He nodded. She kept a hand on his arm as she led him, as if worried that he might stumble and fall again. On any other day, he might have asked her to dally with him or at least tried to steal a kiss, but right now he needed to think, so he settled for a quick caress of her more enticing features. As she led him to the castle gate, he let his hand, which had been innocently at his side, creep over for a quick feel of her ass.

It was properly sized, nothing extraordinary, but firm and pleasant nonetheless...

And the girl was seething. "Suddenly I see why Lady Sango saw fit to beat you," she remarked, carefully peeling his hand off of her.

"Ah, my apologies," he said. "You see, this hand was once cursed, and I'm afraid it still has a mind of its own sometimes..."

"Please go," she said through gritted teeth, pointing past the gate, "and don't come back."

"Of course," he replied pleasantly. And with a smile and a brief wave, which she did not reciprocate, he took his leave. Of course, he had no intention of obeying this latest directive, which no doubt came from Lady Sango herself. He'd weaseled his way past the last one, and he'd do it again, happily. And, hopefully, soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Miroku was getting frustrated. Where was that damned tanuki when he actually wanted something? He had looked all over town and into the surrounding countryside, but it seemed that Hachi had beaten a hasty retreat after their last encounter. Perhaps it was his own fault for being too forceful, but Hachi's continued absence was only adding to his ire - and his conviction that the tanuki knew more than he was sharing about what was going on.

Since it was becoming obvious that he would get no more information from Hachi just yet, Miroku had taken to devoting his time to pursuits that might prove more fruitful. As it turned out, there was more to Lady Sango's strength and stubbornness than a fierce punch, and he had found himself banned from the castle and all its servants instructed to ignore him. That, of course, had not stopped him from trying. If anything, it had just made him more determined to succeed.

He had been turned away three times - and thrown out twice more when he tried to sneak in - before he finally resigned himself to lurking outside. Under the guise of doing useful things for the villagers, of course. A good monk would never skulk about outside a castle, waiting for an opportunity to make a move on its lady, after all. Especially not when the guardsmen were strongly hinting that their patience might be nearing its end.

Unfortunately, he was running out of useful, less than suspicious ways to keep himself occupied. There were only so many fake exorcisms he could perform, as the villagers were quite wary of wandering priests, and only so many young women willing to have their fortunes read for coin. And besides all that, his own agitation was growing. He wanted answers. He had seen neither hide nor hair of Hachi for days now, and had no idea where else to turn, but the questions remained. Who was behind this escapade? What was in it for him? Who wanted this woman shamed so badly? And... what was it about her that was so captivating that he couldn't just let the whole damned thing go?

And he had to admit it: he couldn't let this - or her - go. Not yet, anyway. She had been remarkably successful in resisting him thus far. She had barely even given him a chance to work his way under her skin, but she'd succeeded in getting under his - and without even trying.

He paused in his wandering to look over at the castle. There was no sign of activity.

A muscle in his face twitched, and he touched the spot gingerly with one hand. The day after his last encounter with the lady of the castle, in which she'd seen fit to punch him in the face for what he considered a minor infraction, he had been overcome by morbid curiosity and borrowed a mirror from the innkeeper's wife. The Lady Sango had given him a lovely - and painful - purple-yellow bruise across most of one cheek in return for his attentions. It ached dully even now, several days later.

He sighed. He had known from the moment he saw her that this woman would be a challenge. She had made it abundantly clear that she was not the type to fall for his usual tricks... at least not right away, but he had never expected her to be this difficult.

He honestly had not thought she would throw him out a second time, especially after he had caught her so off guard. But she had. And it rankled, a lot more than he would have thought. And this time it would not be so easy to blame his failure on Hachi. The woman was simply headstrong and righteous to a fault, and not easily swayed - or duped.

What made it worse was that she was wary now. And angry, too.

Ordinarily, he would simply have moved on to another target and forgotten all about this icy-hearted noblewoman. But she was not merely an icy-hearted noblewoman (how else to explain the fire he'd seen in her eyes just before she hit him?), and none of the other women in this village could compare. He'd tried. Oh, he had tried. But in the end, he had always found himself thinking about Sango. Wondering about her. Pondering how to break through that shell of hers. And he'd be a liar if he said he wasn't curious about who set this whole scheme up. He had a few guesses, but he was unfamiliar with the local nobles, something his inability to gain access to the castle was not helping with.

All he needed, he had grudgingly decided, was to win over one of the servant women. Just one, one he could convince to go behind her lady's back and give him an entrance into the castle, that was all he could hope to ask for. But it seemed there was not a single one that would be swayed; even if the lady's noble fellows were less than enamored of her, it seemed that the women who served her more than made up for this lack.

Some time later, he was still pacing moodily when something caught his eye - a lone female figure heading into the village from the castle. It was Suzume, who Sango had sent to show him out of the castle the first time he'd been... escorted out. She was one of the younger women in the lady's service. Happily, he had been rather half-heartedly pursuing her for a while now, when he could catch her out and about, and felt he might be near to making a breakthrough with her. Each time he encountered her, she grew a little more feisty, and let a little more information slip. First her name, then her station among the castle staff.

Perhaps this would be his chance to learn more about Sango.

He carefully altered his path and his pace so that he caught up with Suzume after only a short while.

"Ah," he sighed, loud enough that he was sure she would hear. "A beautiful day and beautiful company. A man couldn't ask for more."

Suzume half-turned and scowled. If he squinted, he thought he saw playfulness in her eyes. "What do you want, Houshi?"

"My lady Suzume, you wound me! I have asked for nothing," he pointed out.

"Yes," she said, rolling her eyes. "My words cut you to the quick, I'm sure. But even that's not enough to keep your hand off my bottom!"

Lest she take her example from her lady, he quickly pulled his errant hand away. "I apologize. You see, this hand used to bear a great and deadly curse -"

"Yes, yes," Suzume interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "You can't help it. I know, you've told me that so many times already. And yet it seems you don't even try to stop it."

"I will endeavor to try harder in the future," he promised. The look she gave him was skeptical, but she did not protest when he continued to walk beside her. After a while, he asked, "Where are you off to today?"

She sighed. "If you must know, I'm on an urgent errand for my Lady. I'm to make a purchase for her from old Kanon and return as quickly as possible." Kanon was, he had learned not long ago, the village's herb woman. What could Sango possibly want from an old woman who spent her days harvesting and preparing herbs, who was also commonly referred to as 'the herb witch'?

"I see. What sort of purchase?"

She frowned. "She didn't say anything about it, but I really don't think she'd want me to tell you."

"But she didn't say that you could not tell me. I'm merely curious as to what the Lady is up to."

Suzume grunted in annoyance; she had a quick temper and was already tired of dealing with him. "If you're so interested in my lady's doings, go ask her yourself," she hissed, pointing down the road they had just crossed. Miroku glanced over, his eyes widening slightly. There was a commotion a short distance away - he counted at least three castle guards and about twice that many villagers. And something else: Sango.

It was the first time he had seen her outside the castle in all the time he had been staying in the village. He would have expected a woman as strong-willed as Sango to flaunt her power and independence, but he was learning that such was not the case. She seemed to prefer to keep to herself and avoid stirring up trouble for her husband.

He wondered if she actually preferred the situation as it was, or if she was merely forced to accept it.

Either way, Suzume had just given him the opportunity he had been looking for.

"I think I will."

Suzume stiffened suddenly, realizing she had just disobeyed her lady's orders. "No, wait -"

But it was too late, he had already set off toward the lady and her entourage. Suzume flung herself after him, catching hold of his arm and yanking. "Don't," she insisted. "It's not a good idea to upset Lady Sango!"

Miroku paused. "Don't worry for my sake. I've faced down a deadly curse, I think I can handle a Lady's ire." He shook himself free of her grasp and continued on his way, Suzume trailing behind and fretting. They had already attracted Lady Sango's attention.

The Lady, clad in that wonderful armor of hers, approached them, her expression dark. The rest of her entourage trailed nervously behind. The villagers obviously had no idea what was going on, and the guards were not particularly fond of Miroku. The situation was quickly growing more tense than Miroku would have liked.

"Ah, Lady Sango, what a wonderful coincidence!" he announced cheerily, bowing respectfully. "I am most pleased to see you are well!"

The Lady sighed. "What are you doing here?" Her gaze twitched in Suzume's direction. "Suzume, I gave you a job to do."

Suzume kept her eyes on the ground at her mistress's feet. "I apologize, My Lady."

"See to it that it is taken care of," Sango said dismissively. "And as for you..." She turned to Miroku. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

She did not say anything about the bruise on his face, but her gaze lingered on him a moment too long and her expression went melancholy for a moment; she felt _guilty_. He could use that. And he decided, then and there, that wherever she was going was where he was going as well. Suzume could return to her errand, or go with them, or suddenly cease to exist, for all he cared at this particular moment.

Of course, that all depended on his ability to sweet-talk Sango into tolerating his presence. "I was merely curious," he said, careful to keep his tone neutral. "I ran into Suzume a little while ago, and she mentioned that you had sent her on an errand with the herb witch. I could not help but wonder what use a Lady would have for such things, and worry that some illness may be afflicting you -"

Sango's expression silenced him. "Fine. If you must know, come with us. But _stay out of the way_. You are to watch only. If you attempt to get involved in any way, I will see to it that my guards remove you." She did not say it, but the look in her eyes told him that she would not ask her guards to be gentle with him.

"Of course," he agreed congenially.

The Lady did not seem very impressed, but she allowed him to join the group. As they set off, Suzume beat a hasty retreat, returning to her original errand. Sango led them down the street to the very edge of town, where a small hut stood empty. It was in a shambles and the family that owned it was obviously not wealthy. And, too, there was something strange in the air.

Miroku sensed a demon's presence.

That explained a lot. Sango had left her home in order to fulfill her duties as a demon slayer.

The little group that had come with her came to a stop and waited patiently while she observed the house; the guards set about building a series of small fires. Miroku felt vaguely uncomfortable observing the proceedings, as if he ought to find some way to make himself useful rather than merely watching. But Sango was swift and competent and gave Miroku no opportunity to cause trouble.

When at last she was satisfied that everything was in order, she collected a leather pouch from one of the guards and drew from it a handful of small blue spheres, which at first Miroku thought were beads, or berries. Her warning gave him pause: "Stay upwind of these."

She placed a small pile of them near each of the tiny fires. "The heat will activate them soon," she murmured. Shooting a dark look in Miroku's direction she added, "Stay back, please."

He hastily obeyed, and soon saw why. The beads began to fizzle and melt, releasing clouds of something that gave off what was quite possibly the most foul stench he had ever encountered. Seeing his displeasure, Sango grinned. _She's_ enjoying _this!_ Then again, it made sense that she would take pleasure in this. She had been raised to fight demons, not to play at being some simpering nobleman's wife. Here, she was the acknowledged expert. She was in command.

"And that is why I told you to stay back. You do not want that smoke in your mouth or eyes," she commented, interrupting his thoughts. There was mirth in her voice now, the first time she had slipped from that controlled, frustrated tone she used so often. It was almost thrilling to watch her open up, even just a little bit.

"What is it?"

"It's a powerful irritant... it should chase the demons out. They'll remember this, and be less likely to return in the future."

"You don't intend to kill them?"

"Only if I have to."

He had not expected to hear a demon slayer be merciful toward her prey, but the look of determination he saw cross her face just before she covered it with a strange metal mask told him she would kill if necessary. "Don't try to follow me," she said, her eyes glaring sternly over the mask.

Miroku nodded, speechless, as she turned and walked up to the hut. She peered inside the door, and then made her way around to the back of the hut. It seemed that she had just disappeared when she beat a hasty retreat and returned to where Miroku and the family waited. A black cloud spewed out of the back of the hut; though it seemed "cloud" was the wrong word, for it was really a swarm of insects. The swarm buzzed and writhed through the air for several minutes before disappearing into the tall grass behind the hut.

Sango pulled her mask off and gave the signal to douse the fires. The guards obeyed without question, but the looks on their faces betrayed disapproval at being given such menial tasks. The Lady paid them no mind.

It was then that Suzume returned, carrying a bundle of strange herbs, which she gave to Sango. Sango took the herbs with a murmured thanks, and turned to the group of clustered villagers. An older man, who was probably the family patriarch, stepped forward to meet her.

"Let the hut air out for a day or two," she instructed. "And scatter these herbs about. The demons should all have fled. But these will help ensure that they do not return. If you have any other problems, come tell me right away." The patriarch nodded his understanding.

For his part, Miroku watched the exchange with mild curiosity. Based on the gossip he had heard from the village elders, he had assumed the Lady Sango not to be very well liked, but it seemed that among the commoners the opposite was true. They recognized the value of her skills, but lacked the pride of the nobles... and so it pained them less to have a woman as their savior. Perhaps they even related to her, being that she was also of the common stock.

It occurred to Miroku that Lord Takeda must be a strange man indeed, to have taken such a woman to wife. But he did not have long to wonder about Sango's missing husband, for an older woman came running up to Sango. She had come from the same direction they had, and at speed.

"Lady Sango," the woman said, bowing deeply and breathing hard, "Your husband the Lord Takeda has returned. He sent me to ask that you return to the castle at once."

"I see," Sango said dispassionately. To the family, and perhaps, he dared hope, to Miroku as well, she added, "I must go, then."

And with that, she turned and left, her retainers following close behind. Miroku watched them go, noticing with no small amount of displeasure that she did not look back even once, as if after all that his presence had not made even the slightest impression upon her. How... irksome.


End file.
